


When The Rocketships All Fall

by verucasalt123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Apocalypse, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Recreational Drug Use, Slash, Temporary Character Death, Vessels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean says “yes” to Michael, Sam and Castiel try to find a way to get him back. Sacrifices are made, relationships become stronger, and help arrives in an unexpected way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Rocketships All Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to septembers_coda for the beta and to evian_fork for the art!

There had always been people who were prepared for The End. They figured it could happen any day, you know, The Rapture, The Second Coming, when the righteous would be bodily assumed to Heaven and those who hadn’t been saved would be left behind to live through the Tribulation under the rule of the Anti-Christ. All of them did what they could. Prophesied, evangelized, handed out literature, reminded people why it was so important to accept Jesus Christ into their hearts as their personal Lord and Savior, to repent for their sins, live a life free of gambling, swearing, alcohol use, fornication, communism, race-mixing and other such forbidden behaviors. Each and every soul was precious, and as long as they were saved, they’d all end up in Heaven. 

 

Those folks clearly had no idea how terribly, terribly wrong they were. 

 

Of course, there were only a few people who knew that there was, in fact, an actual Apocalypse headed this way. It was getting closer every day. But there seemed to be no consideration of anyone’s religious faith when both angels and demons spoke of what they saw as ‘Paradise’, and not a single human, angel, or demon involved had mentioned of the Son of God so far. Truth be told, God himself was conspicuously absent from the proceedings as His angels orchestrated the battle ahead. Celestial brothers, Lucifer and Michael, were determined to carry out what they believed to be their Father’s will - that earthly brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, would host them as they fought each other for control of the planet; no holds barred and winner take all. The world as it was known to its inhabitants was going to end, nothing would ever be the same again. It just wasn’t going to happen the way the members of the evangelical churches thought it would. Jesus Christ was not involved, and Joshua, the only being willing to speak for God in this whole mess, had said in no uncertain terms that God had washed His hands of this one. He wanted nothing to do with it, He wasn’t going to step in, stop it, change it or make it happen…He had turned his back and was not planning to change the direction of his sight anytime soon. 

 

Angels were supremely powerful beings, especially archangels. The spanner in the works here was that, archangel or no, they still needed consent to take a vessel, and for months, the Winchester brothers had refused over and over. No matter what they were shown, what they were told, what was done to them, to the people they loved – neither would give their consent. Lucifer had at least found a temporary vessel, but it was practically coming apart at the seams. It wouldn’t last much longer. Both archangels were starting to look at other alternatives since Dean and Sam had not succumbed to their demands despite all of their efforts. 

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

When Dean hadn’t come back 12 hours after leaving Blue Earth, Sam asked Castiel to take him to Sioux Falls. He left Dean a few messages, but after another 24 hours of not hearing from him, his anxiety level was through the roof. He’d been worried before about Dean saying yes to Michael, and now after all this time with no contact, his worries were multiplying. Castiel seemed to be more angry than concerned for Dean’s safety. Bobby did his best to try to calm them both down a bit, but it wasn’t doing much good, because he was half pissed off and half worried himself. During their first day at the salvage yard, Castiel walked outside to watch Sam doing target practice. After a few moments, Sam looked his way.

 

It was still a bit awkward being alone with Cas, neither of them ever wanting to acknowledge the physical aspect of their relationship that they’d kept secret. The sex was rough, usually, fueled by frustration and urgency, not to mention a decent measure of desperation. They bit and manhandled and hit and bruised; they didn’t kiss or sleep next to each other. It was just something that happened sometimes; not something they discussed, not something emotional. And certainly not something they wanted Dean or Bobby or anyone else to know about. 

 

Right now, though, their weird casual sex arrangement was the last thing on Sam’s mind, so he swept those feelings into one of his mind’s many, many little locked doors (definitely a surprising amount of those; if just about anyone he knew ever found out, they’d be shocked) and spoke.

 

“Hey, Cas. Why’d you come out here? I thought you hated guns.”

 

“I thought so as well. However, as they say, times are changing. The usefulness of firearms cannot be denied. You are already an exceptionally proficient marksman. Do you feel that you need practice?”

 

“You always need practice. My dad told me that, told us that, me and Dean, drilled into both of us. Never enough practice.”

 

“I’d like to try”, said Cas. His words were rock-steady, though his eyes were slightly uncertain. Why he wanted to try _now_ , he didn’t explain or really even want to think about. Castiel was nowhere near as optimistic as his friends were about their chances to stop the Apocalypse.

 

“Go ahead, here, use this one”, Sam replied, holding out a snub-nosed .38 caliber revolver. 

 

“This is not like yours.”

 

“Mine’s not for beginners”, Sam said with a grin, indicating the semi-automatic .45 he was holding.

 

Cas nodded once and Sam told him to hold on while he re-set the targets. Once all the cans were set back up on the half-stone wall, Sam jogged back over and told Cas, “Just stand here where I was. Now, we both know full well you can take this pistol and knock over every target on the first try just by picturing the trajectory in your mind and making it happen. Do you think you can use only the senses available to your, you know, uh…the senses that Jimmy had in there, before he, um, _left_?” Cas had assured Sam the first time they were frantically ripping off each other’s clothing that James Novak had without a doubt moved on, when the thought occurred to Sam that he might be doing something that hadn’t been consented to. “Or can you not separate it like that?”

 

“There’s no use pretending my powers haven’t been slowly degrading since my rebellion, Sam. You’re well aware that I don’t have nearly the strength I used to. You’re right, though, that is something I could do easily, even now. What you’re suggesting is something I haven’t really tried to do purposely before, but I suppose I could attempt it.” Castiel closed his eyes for a moment and Sam sensed a very subtle change in the air around them before Cas looked up again and said he was ready. 

 

“You want earplugs or something? It’s very loud.” Sam almost immediately regretted asking the question when he saw the withering glare Cas directed at him before he turned back to the targets. On his first try, he hit four of the ten cans, and his frustration was palpable. 

 

Sam tried to reassure him. “Dude, knocking down four the first time you’ve fired a weapon is fantastic. My first time I only hit one, and I’m sure it was just luck.” Of course, it didn’t help when Cas forced Sam to admit he was nine years old when that happened. He still tried, though. “Age doesn’t matter, it’s experience, and like I said, practice. You wanna go again?”

 

They stayed out there until the sun started going down. By that time, Castiel had a good sixty to seventy percent average, which of course still wasn’t good enough for him, but it was damned impressive for a first day. After dinner, they all went to bed (separately, of course, it wasn’t like Sam and Cas were going to fool around in Bobby’s house); Castiel and Sam were planning to take a workable vehicle from the salvage yard in the morning and go out looking for Dean. Sam thought Indiana might be a good starting point.

 

But Dean wasn’t in Indiana. 

 

Sam and Cas headed farther south, to Kansas. Just another familiar place, but he wasn’t there either. Their dad had another one of his storage lockers in Oklahoma. Couldn’t hurt to check there, and they had to keep moving anyway. 

 

Castiel was restless, his anger turning more and more to concern and confusion as time passed and he knew something was terribly wrong. He was almost certain that Dean had decided to say yes to Michael, he even suspected that he’d actually gone through with it, but he didn’t want to say that to Sam. Maybe because he didn’t really want to accept it himself. Everything he’d done, all the sacrifices he’d made…he’d always thought if one of the brothers was going to give in, it would be Sam, not Dean. Not because he thought Sam was weak, but because Sam was an arrogant bastard who could rationalize some kind of plan where he could say yes and come out of it clean, he could _beat_ the devil, because he was smarter, he was stronger, he could find a way that no one else had thought of. That was the way Sam’s mind worked, where Dean would have said yes only if he thought it would spare the lives of others, and only as a last resort if he’d lost all hope of avoiding the upcoming prize fight. Dean didn’t have the same sense of self-worth as his younger brother. The two of them would sacrifice themselves for each other over and over again, there was no question of that. The difference was that Sam always thought he could find some kind of loophole, a secret key, a get out of jail free card, and Dean didn’t really care if there was one or not. 

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

The younger Winchester brother and the angel from the garrison who had pulled the Righteous Man from the Pit were crossing the Oklahoma state line when it started. They had no idea that they would only miss him by a few hours. Dean Winchester dried the last of his tears, parked his car outside his deceased father’s storage unit, left a note and the keys on the front seat, and walked away to scream his consent to the sky just as the sun was starting to come up. Michael came to him quickly, before he could change his mind, and didn’t give Dean even one second to ask questions or negotiate for the safety of his loved ones. 

Once Michael was in his true, intended vessel, obliterating his brother was anti-climactic. He found Lucifer quickly and easily enough, hiding out in one of the most desolate and rarely-traveled parts of the Appalachian mountain range, cowering in fear. He’d never seen his brother that way, never felt that kind of terror and desperation coming off him, and he certainly hadn’t expected those things. At the very least, even in his condition, Michael expected Lucifer to fight. There was no fight, though, not really, because Lucifer’s vessel was a bloody mess before Michael even got there, and they both knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took just a moment, feeling Dean Winchester’s confusion temporarily overcome his anguish and fury, to reach down and lift Lucifer to his borrowed feet. He gave in to the urge to hold his brother’s vessel in his arms and tell him he loved him. Because he did, of course, he had always loved him, no matter what. Casting his favorite brother, the one with whom he’d spent the most time and bonded with so very closely, out of the kingdom of Heaven was the most difficult thing he’d done in all his millennia of existence. But then, as well as now, Michael did not feel any choice but to follow their Father’s command, accept His judgment and carry out the orders he’d been given. He told Lucifer, again, as he had so long ago, that he would give anything for this not to be their Father’s will, even admitting how difficult it was to carry out the command. There were tears in the eyes of both vessels, and Michael pressed a tender kiss to the scabbed and ruined cheek of his brother before reducing Lucifer to nothing but a silhouette of burnt wings in the grass below them.

Michael had someplace to be. There was a host of angels waiting there for him, waiting for his instructions, waiting for him to tell them that it was time. This had been promised to them, to all of them, for so long. Paradise. Michael had told them what their Father wanted; to rid the Earth, this beautiful creation of His, of the ugliness humans had made of it. Not the way Lucifer wanted, wiping out the entirety of the human race, leaving nothing behind, burning the whole planet as a result of his anger. No, some of it could be saved, Michael knew. God had created these humans in His own image. They’d just gone much too far when they’d forgotten His commandments and the way He meant for them to live. In doing so, they’d ruined so much of the beauty of this planet. The water was polluted, the air was ruined with chemicals, so many of His creatures extinct, entire forests devastated in the name of _progress_. Even the skies were littered with so much metal that one could barely tell the stars from the man-made **things** in the space close to Earth.

The archangel tamped down the screaming of his vessel’s soul as much as possible. Truly, as much as he regretted having had to kill his brother, Michael took no pleasure in the torment of Dean Winchester. He was, after all, the Righteous Man whose foretold actions had set all of this into motion. This man was favored by Heaven and regardless of his words or the way he’d lived his life, his soul had a special place there among the angels and the other worthy souls, including those of many of his loved ones. He was a good man who loved his family and had always tried to do the things he thought were right despite his professed lack of faith in their Father. There was no alternative, though. Dean was Michael’s intended vessel; that hadn’t been decided by Michael, it was destined long ago. If he’d ever given it any thought, Dean would have seen how much they had in common; being a good son, following the wishes of their respective fathers, making unpleasant decisions because there was no other choice. If Michael could have promised to keep Dean’s living family and loved ones safe, he certainly would have done so, but circumstances made that impossible. Sam Winchester and the angel Castiel would do anything in their power to stop Michael, because they believed just as strongly as Dean did that this so-called Apocalypse was a terrible thing. None of them were able to see the good that would come from it in time; all they focused on was the initial loss of life and their belief that _free will_ was the answer to everything. If there was any hope at all that, given time, Castiel and Sam would not make him a target, Michael would simply ignore their existence, at least giving Dean the knowledge that his brother and friend were safe. No such hope existed, unfortunately, so finding and eliminating Sam Winchester and Castiel was a very high priority. Sam was protected, hidden by the sigils burned into his bones, but Castiel could be found through his grace and the two would most certainly be together. There would be time enough for that. 

First, though, it was time for him to make his presence known and begin the changes that would start guiding the remaining residents of this planet along a much better path. 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Sam and Cas found the Impala in Oklahoma. That was when Sam knew for sure – Dean would never have left the car like this unless he wasn’t coming back. The letter on the front seat, in Dean’s slanted scrawl was addressed, of course, to Sam. It was brief and so very typically Dean. 

Sam-

I know you’re pissed. I would be too. But it couldn’t be you, Sammy. Just – it couldn’t be you. I’m sorry for whatever happens, whatever he uses me to do. You know I’ll try to make him promise not to hurt you or anyone else who’s important to me. Shit’s gonna be ugly, no way around that. If you see him, he’ll look like me. Just remember that it’s not me, and do what you have to do. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. 

Except to take care of my baby for me. I know you will. I love you, Sammy, and I’m sorry. 

-D

Castiel stood back, giving Sam some space. He knew Sam wouldn’t want to break down like this, not in front of him. There was no way to stop it, no way to hide it, but Cas could at least move away to give the illusion of privacy as Sam rested his head on the roof of the car and crumpled up the paper, his body racked and shaking with his tears of grief and anger. Cas didn’t startle when Sam pounded on the Impala’s roof hard enough to leave a dent. He could hear Sam’s sobs, his whispered cursing interspersed with his brother’s name, but he kept his distance. If there was one thing Castiel had a lot of experience with, it was standing by quietly and doing nothing while waiting for one of the Winchester brothers, usually Dean. 

He used his time wisely, though. As angry and lost as he felt, like he’d been abandoned by the One who should be with him always, Castiel fell back on the habit of prayer. Terrified of what Dean’s fate might be, almost without any consideration, the battlefield prayer played out silently while Sam (who would never forgive him for praying at this moment if he’d known) had his face turned in the other direction.

_Come to his assistance, all you Saints of God! Meet him, you angels of the Lord. Receive his soul, and present it to the Most High. May Christ who called you, receive you; and may the angels lead you into the bosom of Abraham. Eternal rest grant to him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May the souls of the faithfully departed through the mercy of God rest in peace._

_Into your hands, O Lord, we humbly entrust our brother. In this life you embraced him with your tender love; deliver him now from every evil and bid him enter eternal rest._

_The old order has passed away: welcome him then into paradise, where there will be no sorrow, no weeping nor pain, but the fullness of peace and joy with your Son and the Holy Spirit for ever and ever._

_Amen._

Dean was a soldier, after all, in his own way. As strange as it was to ask for help from an absent God and His Angels (one of whom may have been the cause of whatever had happened to his soul when he said yes), it still seemed fitting. To an outsider, it may have looked like Dean had surrendered, or that this prayer meant Cas thought Dean was dead. The truth was that Dean forfeited what he knew of his life in a direct attempt to protect loved ones and strangers alike, and if that wasn’t the act of a warrior, Castiel didn’t know what was. Dean wasn’t dead, not technically and certainly not permanently (not as far as Sam or Cas believed) but it couldn’t hurt anything to say the prayer, and it brought Cas just the smallest measure of comfort. (art here)

 

After a while, though, Sam got himself together (on the outside, anyway), and walked toward the car they’d driven there. Without looking at Cas, he said, “Might as well move our bags, we’re gonna need the weapons in the Impala when shit starts going down.” Castiel responded only by grabbing their bag of supplies and moving it to the sleek black car with which he was so familiar. He had no possessions of his own except the blade he materialized when it was needed. 

As they both got into the car, Cas quietly asked, “Would you like to see what is inside the storage locker?” Sam just shook his head and got behind the wheel. He didn’t care what was in there. _Dean_ wasn’t in there, so what did it matter?

They’d been driving in a vaguely southern direction, in complete silence and with no discernible destination for close to ten hours before Castiel finally spoke.

“We should stop for the night, Sam. You need to sleep, or at the very least rest. Eat. I can feel your body shutting down, it’s not safe for you to keep driving.” When there was no response, he continued, “There is no reason for you to fight your body’s signals. Not tonight, anyway. You’re still safe, protected from being found by any of the angels, even Michael. There is no way to know what his next move will be now that he has – now that he can roam freely. We will need our wits about us when the time comes to fight.”

Sam simply nodded, still unable to speak. He knew that if he opened his mouth, the words, screams, sobs, curses would all tumble out. It wasn’t time for that, none of it would help him get Dean back. Castiel was right, they would both need to be strong and rested for whatever was ahead of them. Silently, he took the next exit and checked them into a motel room. Such a familiar task, it could be done on auto-pilot by now, but it was different this time. He hadn’t ever gotten a room just for himself and Castiel before. They only spent time alone in motel rooms when Dean was absent from the place they’d booked together. Dean’s absence from just this small activity caused Sam physical pain; he wasn’t looking forward to the process of learning how to live without his brother, even if he still thought it was temporary and he could find a way to get Dean back safely from the angel who’d taken him. 

Unlocking their room (two beds, it was a habit, what they’d always asked for, him and Dean), bringing in their bags, salting the door and windows – all of it was done in complete silence. Castiel knew Sam was keeping quiet because he had no words to describe his feelings, and even if he did, he didn’t want to say them aloud. By the time Sam emerged from the bathroom, changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, Castiel had decided he wanted to speak. Comforting someone, anyone, even Sam, wasn’t something he knew how to do, and there was no way for him to even try to offer comfort to Sam given the situation. Still, there were things he wanted to communicate, thoughts and even _feelings_ (he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with emotions even though they’d been forced on him due to his rebellion) that he wanted to share. He cared deeply for Dean and had never wanted to lose him, especially not like this. Without looking up at Sam, his eyes still focused just to the left at a seam in the wallpaper, Cas made his attempt. 

“Sam, I’m-”

“ **Don’t**. Not now. Just – just **no** ”, Sam seethed, his hands shaking as he dug through his bag looking for his toothpaste. He couldn’t listen to Cas, couldn’t stand to hear the words that were coming, Cas’ inevitable apology, or condolences, or pity, or even sympathy. All of a sudden, he felt ridiculous standing there thinking about brushing his teeth when his brother was _gone_. Before he even realized his own intent, Sam had spun Castiel around and pushed his cheek into the wall, pinning one arm behind his back. “Just shut up. Shut the fuck up”, he growled, knowing full well that Cas could throw him across the room if he wanted to; knowing full well that Cas wasn’t going to do that, wasn’t going to do anything but go along with whatever Sam did or said. 

Less than thirty seconds later, Sam had Cas face-down on the bed. The trench coat and suit jacket were on the floor, and Sam reached behind himself to pull off Castiel’s shoes. He took a minute or two to sink his teeth into the back of Cas’ neck, knowing he broke skin there but not sorry for it. Reaching around to unfasten his pants, he was relieved to see Cas lifting up, making it easier for Sam to pull his pants and underwear completely off. That was good, Sam thought, Cas was making it clear that Sam could take what he wanted without a fight. Not that Sam would have minded a fight right then, but again, if Castiel really wanted him to stop, he was more than capable of stopping him. Any struggle on Cas’ part would have been disingenuous and would only serve to feed Sam’s anger. He pulled at Cas’ hips until they were where he wanted them, and it would be _right_ this way – Cas’ face buried in the pillows, his knees underneath of him and his ass at the perfect angle. Moving his hand again, he pushed two fingers against Castiel’s mouth. He didn’t even have to say anything, Cas just opened up and covered his fingers with as much spit as he could. Sam hadn’t taken the time to dig any lube from his bag, and Cas seemed to be perfectly aware of that. Taking back his fingers, Sam added a mouthful of his own spit directly against Castiel’s hole and then forced both fingers all the way inside. Cas flinched but didn’t make a sound as Sam fucked him roughly with his fingers, stretching him without any attempt to make it feel good. That was the last thing on his mind. He still didn’t want to talk, but he had to let out some of his anger, and this was the only way he could right at that moment. Spitting again on his hand and on Cas, he shoved in a third finger, this time harder and faster and with a singular determination to get Castiel open and ready. Pushing his sweats down just enough to free his erection, he leaned over and whispered, “You can make noise, I don’t care, just don’t fucking say anything, not a word, not one single fucking word, Cas.”

Castiel knew what was coming, and he wasn’t afraid but he wasn’t turned on, either. Not that it made a difference, this was Sam’s fuck, not his, not _theirs_ , just Sam’s. He nodded once in response to Sam’s words, and braced himself as he heard Sam slicking himself up with more saliva, most likely mixed with pre-come. It wasn’t much as far as preparation goes, but it would have to be enough. He allowed himself to feel the pain and the burn of Sam’s fingers fully, as if he were human, and he would continue to do so. Sam had to release a metaphorical pressure valve, and if this was his chosen method, Cas would let him have it. It was the least he could do. Even feeling the blunt head of Sam’s cock against him, he was quiet and still. Once Sam started pushing inside, though, Castiel shouted and gripped the comforter below him to keep himself in place. There was no waiting for adjustment like the few times Sam had fucked him before, just an immediate and hard rhythm of forceful thrusts into Cas’ hole. Cas did make noise, sounds of pain instead of pleasure, letting this body experience the physical sensations. He was afraid he might be on the verge of tears and was tempted to take the pain away after a few minutes of this brutal act. Sam hadn’t tried to touch him, other than to place his large hands around both of Cas’ hips to keep him still. Castiel was just along for the ride, giving Sam something he could hurt. His throat was raw already and his ass was thoroughly abused when he started to feel Sam’s rhythm falter a bit; his breath getting quicker and heavier but not letting out any of the sounds he normally made when they were intimate. And this, well, it wasn’t lovemaking, that was certain, but it was no less intimate. If anything, it was even more so because of the naked emotion evident as Sam pounded into Cas harder and deeper, like he was giving those feelings to Cas, or at the very least taking them out on him. It was almost a relief when he felt Sam’s hands tighten against his skin, muscles locking up as he came in complete silence. 

The orgasm felt like it was torn directly from Sam’s chest into his dick, filling Cas up without ever trying to get Cas off. He was pretty sure Cas hadn’t even gotten hard the whole time, which was just fine. After catching his breath and pulling out roughly, he started to come back to himself just a bit when he fell onto the mattress next to Cas. He waited until Cas moved from being on his knees into to lying down next to him before he said anything. “I know I hurt you”, he said, still not reaching out to touch in any way, and certainly not apologizing. Cas could have kept this from hurting but he clearly hadn’t, and Sam found himself thankful for Castiel’s intuition. 

“Yes, but you did not _injure_ me. I had no reason to deprive you of what you wanted or needed from me in this bed.”

“Still, I – you’re okay, right?”

“Physically, I am mildly uncomfortable. Sore, I suppose. I won’t speak of how I feel in any other way, as you’ve made it clear that you don’t want me to do that.”

Sam took a few deep breaths before he turned so they were facing each other. “I just can’t – I can’t talk about it yet, I need some time.”

“Of course. Time will pass and you’ll need to discuss your feelings, and I will need you to hear mine as well. But neither of those things is going to happen right now. I understand.”

“Yeah, but – short term, where are we headed? I don’t know even know how to start formulating any kind of plan to deal with…with the situation”, he finished, the last words quiet, hot breath against Cas’ shoulder. Any other time, it would have had him squirming, just the feel of Sam’s breath so close to him usually drove him mad with desire. But just like so many other things, now wasn’t usual. And Sam wasn’t going to be happy with the actions Cas had planned. Unlike Sam, he had been able to think of at least one thing that was absolutely necessary, but he wasn’t going to share it just yet. 

“Don’t think about it now. Please Sam, just try to rest, get a few hours of sleep and in the morning we’ll talk more.”

Sam’s eyes were already starting to close as he mumbled his agreement. Castiel waited until Sam’s breath evened out, soft snores emanating from his mouth and nose before he got up to move to the other bed and finished what he’d tried to say when they first arrived. 

“I’m sorry, Sam”, he whispered. “So sorry.”

With that, he got out of bed, re-dressed (without the jacket or trench coat) and sat quietly, contemplating what he was about to do. It was terrifying, but without a doubt it was the safest way to keep himself as hidden as Sam was. If the angels could find him, they would obviously find Sam as well, which was unacceptable. Cas had lost one friend already, and he was not going to put Sam in harm’s way. If he thought taking off and leaving Sam alone would do any good, he’d do it before Sam was awake. It wouldn’t do any good, though. Sam was too damaged right now to be alone, and he was perfectly capable of summoning Cas against his will, no matter where he was. There was only one solution that would make them marginally safer, and though he knew Sam would argue, try to stop him and give him what humans called a ‘guilt trip’, he wasn’t going to tell Sam anything about what he was planning to do except that he would be gone for at least the rest of the day. 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Knowing that the so-called technology that had caused so much harm to His father’s most beautiful creation, Michael was loath to use it, but there wasn’t any choice. At least he had the knowledge that after he used it, it would no longer exist. He already knew what he was going to say. There was no point in his planned actions unless people knew what he was doing, and why. The conditions he was planning to create on the planet would make it nearly impossible for the humans (at least, the ones who would still be left) to rise up against him. But maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him to make people understand what was happening and feel the certainty that Michael himself felt about the positive aspects of this new beginning for the human race. 

From the safety of the place he’d made his own in southern Louisiana (for now, at least – the man-made borders between patches of land on Earth would soon cease to matter), he concentrated his power and every television and computer screen on the planet switched on automatically. 

“I am Michael, archangel and true servant of our Father, the Lord of all. It was decreed long ago that I should defeat my brother, Lucifer, and bring about the apocalypse. Many of you think you know what that means, but you are incorrect. The man-made differences regarding a person’s chosen religious faith, any words or deeds done with or without God in mind, will have no bearing on what is about to happen. There will be only a fraction of you left, and those will be reminded of our Father’s intentions, the way He wanted you to live when He created this place. My mission has always been to carry out the event destined by God. I take no pleasure in destroying any of His creatures. When you were created and it was decreed that the Host should love you as we did our Father, I was the first to pledge my love. I still have hope that the humans remaining on Earth after the changes I will bring about can still see the light of Heaven, feel the joyous connection to God and live as you were intended by Him to live; without longing for what you no longer have, only with longing for what you _will_ have in the future. 

In my true form, my voice and appearance would kill anyone to see or hear them. In the same vein, each of you will hear my words in whichever language you understand best. Our Father means for my message to be heard and understood by all. What you see now is the face of my intended vessel, the one who was decreed long ago host me, and I have now, with his consent, taken the vessel that was made for me. All things and creatures still on the planet after I carry out the beginning of this process will be changed forever, and there will once again be a Paradise for those God created here. People will not agree, at first, but they will learn to live the new kind of life being created, and eventually love it as Our Father and I willed. 

You will receive no more transmissions, as your technology will be the first thing I must destroy in order to carry out the will of God. I will not come to any of you in person, nor will I ask anyone to do anything other than follow that will. 

For the few of you who do know this vessel as the person he once was, I realize how painful this is for you to see and hear. I will not offer an apology because I know all the things I’ve done have been what God wants. The soul inside this vessel has not vacated its home. If it is any consolation at all, that soul will be sent to Heaven to live in the palm of God’s hand as it should when the time is right.”

The transmission stopped as abruptly as it started. Michael having said all he felt was necessary. Again, he did his best to disregard the soul of Dean Winchester as it spewed anger and hatred. There was no chance that the vessel would not have attempted to extract promises from the archangel as a condition of his consent; in fact, Dean Winchester had been confident that he could at the very least obtain an assurance of safety at least for those closest to him. Part of his soul’s anger was a result of not having had the chance to do so, as if there was anything that would keep his brother and their angel friend away from death and destruction. Of course, no one would be able to avoid what was coming. The remaining archangels were not even an issue. Gabriel had been gone for so long and had found some way to hide himself from other angels, and Raphael was on Michael’s side, believing in what was commanded by God and not in the human concept of _free will_. 

Destiny could not be changed, no matter how hard or how many times humans may have tried. 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

In a run-down motel room hundreds of miles away, Sam and Castiel were silent for a few moments. Sam was once again furious, and still thrown by the image of Dean as Michael’s mouthpiece. He wanted to throw things, break something, scream, but he could do nothing. He’d barely even had time to process the fact that Dean had consented to Michael, and now he had to watch; had to hear those words about the near decimation of humankind in his brother’s voice, see the cold detachment in a pair of eyes that showed no trace of Dean. 

 

The television turned off by itself after the announcement had concluded and the lights in the room were gone, as was the humming sound of the mini-fridge in the corner. Out of habit, Sam checked his phone only to see the ‘no service’ message at the top of the screen. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the mattress dip next to him, familiar hands offering a box of Kleenex. 

 

Castiel said, “I realize you have no desire to discuss any of this with me right now, and I won’t force it on you. However, I will also not allow you to carry this load on your own. I’m afraid it is one that I may not be able to carry alone, either. I’ve lost a best friend and a brother.” He reached over and placed his right hand on Sam’s shoulder, which he hoped would convey his support. They’d never engaged in casual touching, it wasn’t a component of their physical relationship, but Cas genuinely felt the need to both give and receive comfort. Sam was all he had left.

 

The words somehow penetrated Sam’s weakly constructed shield, and for the first time, he realized he hadn’t given a moment’s thought to what Cas had lost. He knew how much Castiel cared for Dean, how close they had become; and on some level he recognized that no matter what had happened, the angels were still Castiel’s brothers – even Michael and Lucifer. The fact that he didn’t agree with their actions didn’t erase his connection to them. Sam thought then about Bobby, alone at the salvage yard, seeing what he’d seen, having no way to contact anyone. He thought about Lisa and Ben, how afraid and sad they must have been watching Dean’s face on their television and seeing the lights go out. 

 

“Cas…shit, I know, okay? I know, I’m not the only one who’s torn up over this. I just couldn’t think – I couldn’t recognize what you must have been feeling, how Bobby must feel right now. But you couldn’t have stopped this, no one could have stopped this, except for me. If I’d said yes first-”

 

“What? If you’d said yes first, the world would be any better off? Any of us would be any better off? You know that’s not true. Dean would have mourned you just as much as you’re mourning him now. Bobby would have been heartbroken, I would have…well, it wouldn’t matter because Lucifer wouldn’t have wasted time with any planning and announcements, he would have incinerated me right off, and you would have had to look out of his eyes and watch him do it.” Castiel softened his voice, didn’t move his hand from Sam’s shoulder, and continued. “The only better option would have been finding a way to defeat them without either of you being taken as vessels. We tried, Sam. All of us did everything we could think of to avoid it. Ellen and Jo died just to give us a chance.”

 

And Sam – just the mention of the Harvelle women’s names was enough to kick down the last of his reserve. His tears flowed freely once again, but this time he didn’t seem to mind Cas being right there beside him. Once he let go, he couldn’t stop, eventually giving up and leaning against Castiel as he wept for what they’d lost – not just him, all of them. Finally, he calmed enough to tell Cas he was sorry, that they needed to get themselves together and get ready for what was ahead, just as Cas had said the night before. 

 

It wasn’t like there was going to be a _right_ moment for Castiel to tell Sam he was leaving, but they couldn’t sit around and do nothing for much longer. “Sam, there’s something I’ve got to do. I’m asking you, please, to trust that I’m doing what has to be done, the only thing that might help us stay safe for just a little bit longer. But I’ve got to leave here first. I won’t be gone longer than a day, most likely I’ll return before nightfall. I’ll tell you again, this is _the only thing_ I can do. Please, stay here. I know you can already hear the panic starting outside, but I need you to believe that I will come back and I need you to be **right here** when I do. In the meantime”, Cas looked down at the blade in his hand, setting it next to Sam on the bed, “keep this for me. Keep it safe, keep it here.”

 

He didn’t give Sam enough time to respond before disappearing from the room.

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

There were eight thousand man-made objects orbiting the Earth at this time; three thousand of them were actively working satellites. Some controlled communication; others were for data-collection, weather tracking, observation and many other purposes. Most people never thought about how many things were floating around up there and what would happen if those things stopped working. 

 

On any given day, at any given time, five thousand planes were in the air; some commercial, some military, some cargo-filled. Though there were quite a few people who didn’t like to fly or were afraid to get on an airplane, it was, in fact, the safest method of transportation when compared with cars, trains or ships.

 

Certainly, most people didn’t think about what would happen if all of those airplanes and satellites started falling from the sky. Not until they did. 

 

Sam was still in the motel room, looking out the window for lack of ability to use the television, cell phone or laptop, when he saw the first one that landed close to where he was. At first he wasn’t sure what he was looking at, it was such an unthinkable sight; there was fire and smoke already rising from the ground a few miles away when he realized it had been an airplane. He watched in horror, unable to move outside the door, as he thought back on the words from this morning’s television announcement. _No more technology_. And how could a plane function without technology? The twisting in his gut grew as he extrapolated out from that thought. What kept most radio and television and communication like telephones and the internet working? **Satellites**. They’d be coming down, too, Sam was sure of it. He was already worried enough not knowing where Castiel had gone; now he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of the angel getting caught up in the carnage that had begun. Could an angel survive if he was crushed to death by shit falling out of the sky? Sam didn’t know. The only weapon Cas had, he’d left there with him. Why the hell had he done that? Where and he gone and why? How was going off on his own, even temporarily, something that would help to keep them safe in this madness? 

 

His head was spinning; a single day was not enough time for his brain to process quite this much life-altering information. It was too much, the loss of his brother, the end of the world as visualized by Michael, being cut off from Bobby, feeling like he was sitting there with his dick in his hand with no plan as he caught sight of more crashes, more smoke and fire on the horizon. And speaking of his dick, what was that shit he’d pulled with Castiel last night? Now that he had a little perspective, he was horrified. Not that he and Cas had some kind of romantic relationship with tender sex, but if Cas hadn’t been a hundred times stronger than Sam, what he’d done would be easy to classify as rape. At best, it was an assault, which was still really fucking bad. Sure, they’d always been rough, but it had never been fueled by anger, only by desperation and adrenaline. If Cas didn’t come back, Sam wouldn’t blame him. Just the idea made Sam want to tremble, thinking of being abandoned by the last person he had left. But Cas wouldn’t have left the angel blade if he wasn’t coming back. There was something in his tone when he’d given his farewell speech this morning, Sam couldn’t put a name to it but he knew Castiel had every intention of returning, and returning to this specific place. If Sam had left, Castiel wouldn’t be able to find him, so he must have – 

 

Of course, Sam was shaken out of his spiraling thoughts when the motel room door opened and Cas almost fell onto the dirty carpet. His clothes were a mess, he was filthy and a strip of his coat had been ripped off and tied tightly around his right forearm, where blood was visible through the fabric. (chapter break)

 

“Cas!” Sam reached him just in time to keep him from landing on the floor. “What the hell? Are you all right? Did you get caught in whatever the hell is going on out there?” He was sure an explanation for Castiel’s absence was forthcoming, but right now Sam was more interested in why he was bleeding and weak. The only explanation he could think of was an encounter with another angel – definitely not Michael or they’d both be a pile of dust right now – but maybe a different one? One who was working with Michael? (art here)

 

Surprisingly, once Sam had him sitting up on one of the beds, Castiel’s first response was a request for water spoken with a completely raw and wrecked voice, barely a whisper. He sounded as if he’d been screaming or choking, and why the fuck was he asking for something to drink? Sam grabbed a bottle of water from the top of the dresser and handed it to him, though, watching as Cas gulped the entire thing down at once. Getting a good look at Castiel’s face, he decided to wait before asking any more questions. Cas looked like he’d been through hell, and his eyes were sorrowful and afraid at the same time. Handing him another bottle of water, Sam sat across from him on the other bed and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

 

Castiel drank a little more water, ran the back of his hand over his mouth, and looked up at Sam, still scared but definitely determined. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I knew you’d argue and there was no time for that. I didn’t go far, because I knew I needed to get back here on my own after…” He paused a minute, knowing he’d have a lot to answer for, but again, there really was no time to waste. “My Grace is gone, Sam. I am human now, as you are. Please – I know this is difficult for you to understand, but I would not have considered it had it not been the only option. As I said before, the sigils on your ribs hide you from angels, but my Grace would have led Michael or one of his angels to me, and therefore to you, very easily. The loss of my powers puts us at a tactical disadvantage of course, but we can’t let them find us. And I assumed, I hope correctly, that you’d still be willing to stay with me. If you’re off the radar, then I am too, if we’re together. But we need to get… _lost_. Find someplace isolated until we can make a plan.” Raising his eyes to meet Sam’s, he was expecting an immediate barrage of questions, a demand for a better explanation, at the very least a highly volatile reaction. But Sam was just sitting there, staring at him with his mouth half-open. Slowly, he saw Sam’s hand coming toward him, reaching out to his injured arm. 

 

“You…Cas, how the fuck…are you…I mean, do you feel…shit, I don’t know. How did you do this? Can you smite yourself or something?” Sam’s eyes were wide, and his expression was one that wasn’t easily identifiable, but it certainly didn’t look like anger. 

 

“I’ve always known it was something I could do, I just never expected I’d have reason to. I’m well aware that this makes me a liability more than an asset, but the chance of being found-” Castiel was not surprised to be interrupted, only by the words that came next.

 

“It’s not about that, Cas! It’s not about your powers, what you can or can’t do, whatever, I just – Christ, you must have been terrified. You must be…I can’t imagine how hard it was for you. Not to do it, though I assume that wasn’t easy, but to make the decision. Not having your powers is one thing, we’ve been getting used to them getting weaker over the past few months; this is about you not being _you_. Giving up your identity, like me practically giving up my humanity before, when I thought it was the only…” And then, it was clear. Castiel could see the moment that Sam made the connection. “A means to an end. A sacrifice necessary to reach a goal. But this…there’s no coming back from this, Cas. Is there? I mean, did you hide your Grace in a tree like Anna?”

 

Unable to contain it, Castiel let out a bitter chuckle at the comparison. “No, Sam. Not that I wouldn’t have, if it were possible. There was only time for me to cast the spell that would destroy my Grace. It wasn’t removed from me or put in another place. It was obliterated. It no longer exists. There is no, as you said, _coming back from this_. I had no way of knowing whether or not Michael was in the process of locating me already, so it had to be done right away. If he’d found me, that would have been the end.”

 

“I know, he would have destroyed you without a thought, I don’t doubt that for a minute. Even with the blade you left me, I don’t know that I could have gone on and found a way to get to him on my own.”

 

“You would not have had an opportunity to do so, Sam. If he found me, he would have found you. Our connection is strong enough and even today while I was gone we were physically in close enough proximity that you would have been located almost immediately. It was too great a risk to take.”

 

And just like that, every piece of the puzzle fell into place. “Cas. No. No, no, **no** , don’t tell me that’s what it sounds like. Don’t you dare say you threw away _being an angel_ for – because of – I mean, to keep him from finding me!” Sam stood up, and there it was, the anger Castiel had been expecting earlier, just for a different reason. “You can’t just do something like that for me, for anyone, fuck, that’s too much, it’s too much…” Sam was pacing now, running his hands through his hair, almost pulling on it, looking lost and confused and still angry. 

 

“Sam, no, you’re looking at this the wrong way. Well, maybe not to you, because I think you’re seeing it the Winchester way. One person having to sacrifice himself for the other, no room for anything else. My actions were necessary for both of us, and, if we’re the least bit optimistic, for any chance that might exist for getting your brother back from Michael. I could have left you, yes, I could have allowed myself to be found so that Michael could do whatever he wanted to me. I’ve been on the other side of Heaven’s interrogations before, and he’s an archangel, I wouldn’t have stood a chance against him. That would have left you face all this alone, though, and I will admit that I was unwilling to do that. I doubt either of us could do this alone, to be honest, but what I did today was the only way we’d have any chance of avoiding detection. We need time to make a plan. It’s just you and me now, Sam”, Castiel finished, still sounding determined but resigned and sad at the same time.

 

“We’ve still got Bobby, he can-” Sam didn’t even finish his reply, because Cas held up a hand to stop him and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Oh shit. No, Cas, we can’t! You have to know better than this by now, we don’t just abandon our friends, we can’t leave him there alone…” He trailed off then, understanding what Cas meant. Bobby was most certainly being monitored. If he and Castiel showed up there, it would be over. Having no way to contact him, to at least explain why they had to disappear, would benefit Bobby once the angels did show up to find out what he knew. An angel could easily read his thoughts and know that he wasn’t lying when he said he had no idea where they were. Maybe it wouldn’t stop them from killing him anyway, _fucking dicks_ , but at least they wouldn’t try to torture him for information if they knew for certain that he didn’t have any. It broke Sam’s heart to think of just walking away like that, but Castiel was right, without even having to say it. Bobby would be safer if they stayed far, far from the place that had been the closest thing to a home they’d ever had.

 

“All right. Yeah, okay, I get it. It’s just…this is all so much, all at once, I’m still trying to get everything to make sense. A few days ago we were all on a hunt and now everything’s gone.”

 

Castiel might not have been as emotionally affected as Sam was, at least not consciously, right then, but his world was spinning out of control too. He just didn’t have any way to express it clearly. It would come, eventually, he knew, but this wasn’t the time for it. “I wish we could grieve for what we’ve lost, Sam, I do. But now, tonight, we need to move. As far and as fast as we can. Find someplace isolated where we can try to come up with a plan. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, Cas, you’re not – there’s no reason for you to apologize. Especially after what you’ve been through today. I never pegged you as one to back down, you already knew that, but what you did must have been…well, I’m sure I don’t have any words strong enough to describe it. And there’s no way I can make your sacrifice worth it unless we do what needs to be done. We’ll have time for all the emotional stuff later. Let’s pack up and see how far we can get without having something crash into us from freaking space.”

 

It was a fairly silent ride as the night slid past the windows of the Impala, occasional blasts and sparks in every direction. Just as the sun was about to rise, they stopped in a strip mall that had already been abandoned. One day, and people were already jumping ship, thinking they could find someplace safer. No different than Sam and Castiel, really, except that they knew what was really happening and the general population didn’t. Now was the time for practicality, though. They were out of gas, couldn’t fill up with no electricity, and were driving an incredibly conspicuous car. Even newer model cars with computers seemed to work just fine, so apparently they had not been affected like other types of technology that relied on power lines or satellites. Luckily, Sam was well-versed in the art of siphoning fuel from other vehicles, and there was a car dealership right there. 

 

Sentiment had its place, though, too. Sam had to believe they were going to get Dean back, and for that to happen, he had to make sure the Impala was safe. Well, as safe as he could make it, anyway. Castiel was in complete agreement. It didn’t take long to find a high-security storage facility, and it didn’t take much longer than that for Sam to demonstrate that most security he encountered wasn’t very high at all. Walking back to the dealership, Sam chose a small SUV that touted fuel efficiency. The keys were all right there in the office, so he didn’t even have to hotwire it, just matched up the right key to open it up and get it started. There were all things he was going to have to teach Castiel, he thought – breaking and entering, hotwiring cars, siphoning gas – but first he’d have to guide him through the much more basic tasks of being a human being. Having to pull off the side of the highway in the middle of the night after realizing that Cas’ ‘abdominal discomfort’ really meant that he had to take a piss…well, that was the first Sam really thought about how much he was going to have to explain and show Cas just about daily living. 

 

Focusing on the task at hand, though, they took their new SUV to the storage facility and started transferring things from the Impala. Castiel stood there holding Dean’s box of cassettes, staring at it with an expression that was so completely lost that it almost made Sam break down and cry all over again. Instead, he just moved up behind Cas, took the box and laid it back down on the front passenger seat. Reaching in front of him and pulling Castiel against his chest, Sam kissed the top of his head and said, “There’s no tape player in this car we’re taking. Let’s just leave these here for Dean, all right?” Cas took a deep breath – Sam could feel him shudder underneath his hold – then just nodded before he reached up and squeezed his hand around Sam’s forearm in a gesture he hoped would relay his appreciation. Sam moved back before they started getting too emotional, closed the door and parked the car inside the storage unit. Leaving the keys inside, he was overwhelmed as he climbed out of the driver’s seat for the last time. He managed to hold back his tears, just barely, as he patted the roof of the car gently and thought (didn’t say it out loud, because he wasn’t his brother and he didn’t talk to fucking cars, damn it), “ _He’ll be back for you_ ”, before walking away.

 

The first couple of days on the road were dicey, to say the least. Sam and Castiel argued almost constantly; not because they really had anything to fight about, but mainly because Cas was tired and uncomfortable and hungry and grouchy and Sam had no idea how to help Cas deal with any of these things. He tried, but his explanations never seemed to be good enough, and they were both so keyed up emotionally that every minute was tense. Trying to find a safe route around a ruined town or city, avoiding roads that had been blocked or erased by a fallen airplane or satellite and keeping gas in the SUV was enough, really, to have Sam on edge all the time without having to coach Cas through shit like “don’t eat that, it’s spoiled” and “there’s nothing I can do about the temperature”. 

 

Stopping well after they’d crossed the border of south Texas into Mexico, they found a tiny abandoned village and decided to take a few days to rest and try to come up with a strategy. First, they raided the local market for whatever safe food they could find and on a whim, Sam raided the pharmacy. He figured it couldn’t hurt to have medication and first aid supplies in case either of them got sick or injured. Picturing the suture kit in their car, he shuddered at the idea of walking Cas through trying to stitch up a wound and pocketed as many painkillers as he could identify. Some of the brand names were different, but with their life, it wasn’t like Sam couldn’t pick out narcotics from other types of medication. 

 

Just for the hell of it, he grabbed a box of condoms, too. 

 

It didn’t take long for them to find a tiny house nestled into the side of a hill that seemed out of the way and safe enough. They hadn’t seen a single other person since they’d been there; it looked like the whole damn town had cleared out. Or maybe Michael had just _Rapture_ ’d them all, hell if Sam knew. When he jokingly brought up the possibility to Cas, he got the silent treatment for three hours. Damn, human Cas was even more prickly than angel Cas. One night, after a particularly loud argument (which had started over either canned soup preferences or keeping stray cloth away from the fucking camp stove and had almost gotten incredibly violent), Sam threw up his hands, dug through the med stash, and handed Castiel a couple of benzodiazepines. 

 

Castiel slept for fourteen hours. 

 

When he woke up, he felt better, physically, than he had since all this had started. Making it sound like curiosity, he commented on how well he’d slept and asked Sam what he’d given him the night before. Sam shook the bottle at him, left it sitting on a low table in the living area of the house, and Castiel swiped it as soon as Sam’s back was turned. Cutting the dose down to a quarter of what he’d taken the previous night, he swallowed down half a pill and in less than an hour’s time, once again felt completely relaxed. The fighting dropped off considerably, but they still hadn’t had sex. There was only one bed and one bedroom, so Castiel had been sleeping on the couch. There hadn’t been any discussion about it, really, there was no point. Sam would not have been able to fit on the couch in a lying-down position, and they were not in any mood to share a bed (not that they’d ever actually spent an entire night in the same bed together before any of this). 

 

As the days went by, though, they made very little progress toward figuring out how to solve the Michael problem. Castiel informed Sam calmly that though his angel blade might hurt Michael, it certainly would not kill him. And even if it did, they were both still stuck on the idea that the body they’d be hurting was Dean’s. Getting Dean back whole and unharmed from the archangel was a long shot; most likely it was impossible, but they still felt compelled to try. However, every idea they floated revolved around finding a way to get Michael to vacate Dean’s body, or forcing him to. Dean knew he’d likely lose his life as a result of his actions and that Sam might have to be the one to end it; he’d said as much in his good-bye letter and even reminded his brother that it wasn’t really _him_ anymore. No matter what Dean had said, though, and even though down deep Sam and Cas both knew how likely it was that one of them would be Dean’s killer, they weren’t ready to plan something like that. It was still so raw and so painful for both of them. They used all the lore they had at their disposal and Castiel’s vast knowledge as well, but neither of those things provided a solution that didn’t include killing Dean right along with Michael. Castiel would have happily done the same spell that he’d worked on himself to take away his Grace if it would be effective against an archangel, but it wouldn’t. They just kept going around in circles, but didn’t have the energy or the anger to fight.

 

It didn’t help that both of them had taken to using benzos and narcotics (Sam had found the wonder that was the Fentanyl patch); partially out of boredom and partially from a deep desire to muffle the almost unbearable emotions they were both dealing with. One night, Castiel decided to check in on Sam in the bedroom and found him trying to jerk his own dick to hardness. Instead of turning around and leaving him to his own devices, Cas stepped into the room, closer to Sam, and asked, “Problem there?”, just as casually as he would have asked if Sam was hungry or tired. 

 

Frustrated, Sam bit out, “I haven’t had any release like this since…” He didn’t want to mention what had happened in that motel room the last time they’d been together. “Guess I just felt like I needed it, but my body’s not cooperating.” Then he started to giggle, and couldn’t stop even as tears poured out of his eyes. 

 

In response, Castiel said, “I have had no physical urges for sex lately either. Not because of-” he tried to gloss over it as well, not wanting to upset Sam further, “what happened last time.” It had been ugly and awful and Cas knew Sam wouldn’t blame him if he’d refused to let Sam touch him ever again. But Castiel knew he’d been utterly complicit; could have stopped it if he wanted to but he let Sam take from him and use him instead. That had been Castiel’s choice, and even though he knew for a fact that it would be hurtful, he was more concerned about giving Sam what he needed in that moment. “I’m not angry with you about it. Everything, physically and mentally, just seems so…I am not certain how to describe it. Flat? Muted?”

 

“It’s the drugs”, Sam told him, once he calmed down, which was pretty damn fast when he realized the connection and voiced it. Castiel had just been about to take another pill, since it was getting late in the evening, before walking in on Sam with his cock in his hand. “That shit fucks with your body; if you can’t feel bad then I guess you can’t feel good, either”, he finished, shrugging his shoulders before reaching up to remove the white sticky patch from his bare chest on the opposite side of his tattoo. 

 

Castiel was suddenly thankful that he hadn’t swallowed another Valium (though he’d only had six that day so far) because the sight of Sam’s nude body on the bed led to him feeling the stir of desire for the first time in weeks. Taking the few short steps to where Sam was lying down, Cas sat sideways on the bed, not looking at him when he made his suggestion. “Maybe I could help?” And if he were being honest, his assumption was that Sam would refuse him, tell him to get out, possibly throwing one of those punches that Cas now knew first-hand were hard and unforgiving. Or, even if he agreed to it, he’d have to be persuaded or spend a significant amount of time brooding over whether he was wrong or right. What he did not expect was Sam immediately reaching for him, crashing his mouth against Castiel’s, biting on his lips and letting their teeth clack together harshly without a second thought. As his shirt and shoes hit the floor, Castiel found he was glad he’d assumed incorrectly. Trying hard not to break the frantic, desperate touches and kisses, they managed to get all of their clothing strewn across the floor of the small room. 

 

Not wasting much time at all, Cas positioned himself between Sam’s bent and spread legs, then batted Sam’s hand away from his own dick so he could take as much of it as he could into his mouth. Without a full erection, it wasn’t that much of a challenge, and he didn’t come in here for sex but now that it was happening he wanted them both to enjoy it. Cas didn’t let himself think about whether he wanted _Sam_ or if he just _wanted_. Not that it made a difference, he’d never had sex with anyone but Sam, so there was no way to know which was true (or maybe both of those things were true). Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for Cas to feel Sam hardening in his mouth, against his tongue and poking close to his throat. Sam was making all of his usual pleased sex-related sighs and groans while reaching for Cas’ hair. It was very clear to him that Sam was putting all of his effort into not holding him in place and fucking into his mouth, probably due to his guilt from their last sexual encounter. 

 

Trading blow jobs was fun, no doubt about it, but now that he was getting harder and more needy, Sam really wanted more than just that tonight. Gently sitting up and pushing Castiel back from him a bit, he reached into his duffle and recovered a barely-used bottle of lube (plain, no scents or colors for either of them, thanks) and handed it to Cas, hoping that action combined with the look in his eyes would convey his intention. Clearly, it did, because Castiel stayed sitting on his knees between Sam’s legs and coated his fingers liberally with the slick substance before reaching down to tease at the edges of Sam’s hole. Sam let out a choking breath and wondered how he’d been able to go this long in such close proximity to Cas without _this_. He arched up off the mattress when Castiel’s middle finger disappeared into him, followed quickly by his ring finger. After his inner muscles started to relax and allow Cas’ fingers to press against him, a third finger was added – only without extra lubrication, which left Sam bucking up his hips and fucking his ass down and forward onto Cas. The feeling of his hole being stretched wide while his prostate was stimulated every few strokes, Sam started to cry out – curses, almost-shouts and a babbled _yes Cas oh fuck more yeah there please please pleaserightthere, fuck_ \- he couldn’t stop himself. It was like he’d almost forgotten the intensity of this sensation. 

 

As sweat dripped steadily from Sam’s forehead across his skin and hairline, Cas reveled in the all-encompassing experience. Sex was definitely not the same as a human as it had been as an angel in a human body. The steady push of Sam’s hips against his hand, the smell and feel of his sweat falling onto Castiel’s skin, the almost mindless streams of words reaching his ears had him hard as a stone within minutes. Reaching for the lube with one hand, he grabbed Sam’s right nipple with the other and pulled, rolling it between his fingers and seeing the flush on Sam’s skin darken and spread. Finally, he didn’t want to wait any longer and he knew Sam was well prepared, so he opened the lube and moved to coat it onto his cock before he was interrupted. One of Sam’s hands circled his wrist and said, “Condoms. I – I mean, I probably don’t have anything but if I do, now I could spread it. So I just thought we should, you know, err on the side of caution”, adding when he took in Cas’ unhappy look, “at least just for now.” Sam honestly didn’t judge Castiel for not wanting something between them when they never had before, but he still wanted to protect him, even if it was from just the possibility of harming him. It didn’t mean anything, not emotionally, it was a logical precaution. He couldn’t afford to lose his only ally if he gave Cas some unknown sexually transmitted bug. 

 

Cas sighed, rolled his eyes, but waited for Sam to open a condom and put it on him (for which Cas was grateful, of course, because it wasn’t like he knew how to get the damn thing on there correctly). He then returned to his task of slicking up his dick, sticking a couple of fingers back into Sam for just a little more prep before he guided his covered cock against Sam’s asshole and started to slide in. Now he was sweating, from the temperature of the room or the exertion or his own arousal, and he leaned down to lick a bead of his own sweat from Sam’s cheek as he sank all the way inside. This wasn’t the norm for them; in fact, Castiel had only topped once before, but he didn’t feel insecure or worried with Sam. He knew immediately that he was doing just fine, based on Sam’s responsiveness. It was easy to tell what felt good, because Sam was vocal and uninhibited in bed, whispering encouragements and letting out satisfied moans of pleasure, never holding anything back. Cas loved getting fucked, but he loved this too – the feeling of Sam surrounding him, his cock buried the unbelievably tight heat of Sam’s ass, hearing the grunts and sighs and pleas for _more, Cas, need it, God, feels so fucking good, don’t stop, CasCasCasCasCas_. Shifting Sam’s legs from around his waist to hang over his shoulders changed the angle in a perfect way for both of them. Cas felt like he was even deeper inside Sam, and he must have been jabbing against Sam’s prostate again because Sam was shouting every few strokes now, bucking his hips up to meet Cas’ thrusts and pulling on the sheet below him almost hard enough to tear the fabric. The condom didn’t do much to alter Castiel’s sensation as he picked up the pace, fucking into Sam faster and harder as he felt himself getting closer to orgasm. He didn’t think he’d ever lose his wonder at that feeling – the buildup that seemed to go through his whole body, tingling pleasure and coiling heat like a spring in his belly and low back. He’d been thrilled to learn he could make that feeling last longer, he could hold off his orgasm so that the experience would last longer for both of them (though it did take a little while for him to learn how to control that, it was worth it now that he could). All of Sam’s usual signals were starting to appear, strained, shallow breaths and spasming muscles announcing that he was close to coming too. Cas carefully shifted his weight so he could hold himself up over Sam on one arm while the other hand reached between them to stroke Sam’s hot, leaking dick. The minute Cas’ hand was on him, Sam’s eyes slammed shut as he chased his release by pushing into Cas’ hand and back against Cas’ dick as fast as he could manage. It didn’t take more than a few strokes before he shouted and all his muscles locked up as he flooded himself and Cas with an objectively astonishing load of cum. Thick white spurts covered the skin on his belly and even reached up to his chest at some places. It was the combination of so much at once – the sight of Sam’s release all over them, Sam’s inner muscles clenching down so hard around him when he came, and the sound of his name loud and bitten out like profanity on Sam’s lips – that overcame Castiel’s control and had him coming hard inside the condom. It felt strange and foreign, keeping all of his cum inside of it, but didn’t make a single bit of difference in the strength of his orgasm. There was something about coming like this, trapped inside Sam’s ass as opposed to being out in the air of the room that made it feel so much more intense and literally breathtaking. 

 

It wasn’t more than a moment or two before Cas’ arms gave out and he tumbled down onto Sam, his dick sliding out and his head resting on Sam’s chest. The condom felt uncomfortable and slippery, which Sam must have known because he reached down and removed it, tying it off at the top and letting it fall to the floor next to them. 

 

There was a shift, something in the air, they could both feel it –this hadn’t just been sex for the sake of sex, though it started that way. The emotions were almost palpable though neither of them had any desire to acknowledge it out loud. Whatever it was they had between them, it had changed – just then, in a matter of moments, and without any intention. They genuinely cared for each other, always had, but it was clear that the caring had turned into something different; their relationship somehow morphing into a _relationship_ over the course of the time they’d been on their own. 

 

Finally, Sam broke the silence. “So, no more zoning ourselves out with meds, you think?”

 

Castiel responded with a chuckle, “Yes, it seems that would be the best course of action. I suppose it’s been hindering us in more ways than one”, he finished with a blush. 

 

Sam agreed, saying, “More of this would be good, a lot more…but we’ve got other work to do too and we’ve been neglecting it. Things are just getting worse and worse, I’m sure, out in the world while we’ve been hiding out here, striking out every time we try to come up with an idea for how to put a stop to it all.” He felt guilty as hell now that he thought about it, knowing he and Cas had been wasting time out here in the middle of nowhere while Michael used Dean to bring about his so-called “Paradise” and Dean was suffering, trapped inside his own body with no control. Castiel felt the same way, they both just had to clear their heads to be able to recognize and acknowledge it. They were both exhausted, though, and decided the best idea was to get a decent night of non-drugged sleep before coming back to the problem in the morning. 

 

It was the first time Cas stayed and slept next to Sam, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

 

By the time the sun came up, Castiel woke Sam with a cup of instant coffee heated on their camp stove and an idea. An absolutely insane idea. One that probably had next to no chance of being successful. Truth be told, though, they’d already been through all of the other possibilities and rejected them, so what could it hurt to try? Castiel had woken up with what he thought might be a solution as clear as day in his mind. He knew Sam would scoff at it, and admitted it was a long shot, but what wasn’t a long shot at this point?

 

“Sam, do you think we can get what we need for a summoning ritual? One that will work even on an archangel?” Before Cas had a chance to start listing what would be required, Sam stopped him. 

 

“What the hell are you talking about? You want to try to _summon_ Michael? Here? After we’ve been hiding from him all this time?”

 

“No. Not Michael. Gabriel.”

 

Sam’s anger was clear immediately. What he’d put them through at the Mystery Spot before Sam or Dean even knew Castiel was bad enough, but then he’d gone and messed with them again, throwing them into “TV Land” in an attempt to show them how important it was for them to play their predestined roles. “Why do you think Gabriel would help us? It was pretty damn clear to me that he was not part of _Team Free Will_ when he was throwing us around his crazy alternate reality. He hurt you for trying to help Dean and me then!”

 

“This is all true, of course, but through all his talk of accepting your fate, did he ever say he’d picked a side? I can’t remember him saying he thought Michael or Lucifer was right in all of this, just that he wanted the fight to happen so everything could be over. He said himself that he was tired of the fighting in Heaven, remember? And I think Dean was right about Gabriel just being afraid to stand up to his brothers, tell them to stop this whole thing.”

 

Thinking it through for a moment, Sam finally agreed to at least try it. He still felt intense anger toward the archangel for the things he’d done to them in the past, but it was true – this was pretty much their last hope. The only thing that can hurt an archangel is another archangel with a blade of his own. The plan wasn’t without its risks, of course. There was no way to know if Gabriel would decide to take both of them directly to Michael in an attempt to curry favor with his now-victorious brother. Also, Gabriel’s presence could definitely be detected. They wouldn’t have much time to convince him to go along with them, and they’d need his sword to dispatch Michael. 

 

That, of course, was a thought Castiel and Sam both hated to face. The blade had the power to get rid of Michael, but if they used it, they would inflict a fatal wound on Dean. A discussion of this possibility, predictably, led to a long and loud argument. As devastated as they were now that they’d accepted Dean’s death as a necessity to stopping Michael, now each of them assumed they would be the one to strike the killing blow. Castiel got angry enough to throw a glass against the wall of the tiny bedroom. He thought he was offering Sam a way out of having to live with the memory of killing Dean by volunteering to kill his own brother as well as his best friend. He felt a responsibility, too; Lucifer and Michael were, after all, his family. Sam raged and cursed and insisted that he was the one who should do it. Dean had said it himself, in the note he’d left - _Remember it’s not me. Do what you have to do_. He’d made it perfectly clear that he wanted Sam to be the one who settled all this, even though he knew it would end in his death. They screamed and paced until they were exhausted, then finally came to the conclusion that there was no point in arguing this particular issue when they hadn’t even gotten Gabriel or his weapon on their side yet. 

 

So, instead of arguing, they ate a dinner of canned fruit then spent the rest of the night fucking. 

 

As Cas tried to figure out how to procure the few items needed for the summoning and Sam sat staring out the window of the tiny house, there was a fierce wind that blew through the room and suddenly, without being summoned, Gabriel was standing there looking smug and suspicious. 

 

“I’m so much more than just an archangel now, little Castiel. Ditching your Grace couldn’t keep me from finding you, not once I sensed your need of me. I assume you’d like my assistance in ridding this world of our brother. What makes you think I’d help you?”

 

Castiel faced Gabriel for the first time since their unfortunate run-in months earlier and said, “I hoped…You never said you were in favor of either Michael of Lucifer, just that you knew the fight had to occur. And it did. Dean did what you thought was best, he ‘played his role’, said yes to Michael, and the fight is over. Lucifer is gone. Look at what’s happening now. This couldn’t possibly be what you wanted.”

 

Sam was still just observing quietly, not wanting to interrupt while they continued. Gabriel said, “I don’t think I really cared either way, to be honest. All I wanted was for the damn thing to be _finished_ , whatever the outcome. Though I must admit I didn’t ever expect this particular part of the outcome”, he continued with a smirk, looking between Castiel and Sam then toward the bedroom. “You can save the scandalized look, kiddo – and you too, Sam. It reeks of sex in here.”

 

“That has nothing to do with what we’re discussing, Gabriel”, Sam said in response. “Will you help us?” He tried as best he could to look defiant and unafraid, but there was no way to hide the desperation and sadness in his expression. 

 

Sitting down, Gabriel addressed them both more seriously than he ever had before. “It took me a while to figure out where my place was in this whole mess, or even if I had a place in it. But if I do belong here, and I have to fight for someone, I’m going to fight for Team Human. As angry and frustrated as I’ve been for so long with our Father and all of the nonsense in Heaven, He did create you, just as you are, and I loved His creation because He commanded it. All the time that I’ve spend among you only made me grow more fond of the mess and the majesty that you became over the millennia. You’re not perfect, not any of you, but my Father always loved you, no matter what His decisions have been of late, and you’re worth fighting for. Whatever it is that you need, I will give you.”

 

Sam and Castiel were shocked, to say the least, but grateful for the offer of help. “I can’t thank you enough, Gabriel. I know we’ve had our differences-”, said Sam. 

 

Gabriel just laughed. “That’s a mild way describing our history, kid.”

 

“Yeah, I know, just – this is the finish line, and here you are, helping us when you have no obligation to.”

 

“There’s a price for all this, Sam. I’ll do what you want me to do. I don’t want to kill my own brother, and to be honest, I don’t want to kill yours, either. That’s the breaks, though, like it or not. You can’t keep one without the other, now that Michael is strutting around in his best Dean-suit. I’ll take you to them. I’ll give you my blade willingly, and I’ll hold off anyone who tries to get in your way. But when it’s done, I’m gone again. Plenty of work for me to do, still, even after all of this. And you’re gonna be left with poor Cas here and the rest of this pathetic world Michael’s created. We can’t undo it. There’s no way to bring back all the people and places that have been wiped away; no way to get you back all your technology and modern conveniences. Humans – what’s left of you – are going to have to start all over again. But at least you’ll be doing it on your own terms, not under Michael’s rule. There’s no telling how long you could stay right here; hide out in isolation and live whatever kind of life you make for yourselves without anyone finding you. So, you two tell me, given everything that you know, is it worth it? Is it still worth it to you?”

 

Castiel looked at Sam, not surprised by the tears in his own eyes as well as Sam’s. He raised his eyebrows in question, and Sam quietly said, “Yeah, it’s – it’s worth it, whatever it ends up costing us, however this whole thing ends. We have to know that at least we tried. Neither of us was ever going to be satisfied hiding out here forever.” He looked to Cas for confirmation, and Cas nodded. 

 

“He’s right, Gabriel. We have to do this, and we can’t unless you help us.”

 

“I’ll take you to him, then. No sense in wasting time. Are you ready?”

 

This was all so much more sudden than Sam or Cas had ever imagined. It only took a moment, though, for them to look around their little place, look at each other, then nod at Gabriel. They could always come back to get the things from their car once they got the Impala back, and nothing else mattered. 

 

“One thing before we go. Sam, if you’ll close your eyes…” Light flooded the room along with a crackling ozone feel in the air. When it faded and Sam looked up from where he’d buried his face in the sofa cushion, he knew immediately. Castiel was standing there shocked and mute, not having anticipated this at all. “You weren’t you, Castiel. It was a brave thing that you did, but foolish. God made you an angel, and an angel you will remain, as long as I have any say in the matter.”

 

Castiel could feel the return of his Grace in every pore of James Novak’s body. He was grateful, but at the same time, he was flooded with so much information. He knew immediately where Michael was (probably something Gabriel planted in him along with the renewed Grace), could feel the suffering of Dean’s soul, sensed the despair and confusion of the world around him. It hurt; just this small amount of time as a human had made him unused to knowing so much all at once. Sam was at his side right away, though, and before either of them had time to thank Gabriel for what he’d done, all three of them were inside a large house near New Orleans. They were immediately surrounded by angels, but Gabriel knocked them all back with a single flick of his wrist before he nodded toward a door behind them. “Now’s the time, guys. Ready or not, we’re going in there to end this now.”

 

Before they moved, Gabriel paused a moment and settled the argument Sam and Cas had been engaged in the day before. Handing Sam his archangel blade, he simply said, “I’m sorry, Sam.”

 

Sam took a deep breath and fought back his tears. “No, don’t. Don’t be sorry. I knew I had to do this, Dean knew it, too. It’s the only way.” Castiel went to Sam’s side and faced him, looking directly into his watery eyes, trying to convey the faith he had in his…well, lover, he thought, though it felt strange to classify Sam that way. 

 

“I’ll be right next to you, Sam. I’m not going to say that everything is going to be all right, because it’s not, but you won’t be alone, at least.” Sam was too emotional to speak, so he squeezed Castiel’s arm, dropped a quick kiss on his forehead and turned to Gabriel. It was time.

 

Entering the room they weren’t surprised to see Michael, but he wasn’t surprised to see them, either. There were no other angels in there, and while Sam wondered why, his brother’s voice filled the room. “I don’t need anyone else here, Sam. I know you think you’ve evened up the fight bringing Gabriel with you, but I’m stronger than he is. He knows that, so do you and Castiel. What were you thinking? Gabriel won’t kill me, and you won’t kill…me – Dean, whatever. Castiel won’t either.”

 

Luckily, Gabriel had extended a protective barrier around Sam, because Michael was walking closer with each word, and Sam had to concentrate so fucking hard to remember that it wasn’t Dean standing there in front of him. He pictured that letter Dean had left for him, called it up in his mind. _It’s not me. It’s not me. It’s not me._ “You’re wrong, Michael. Dean, I know you’re in there, and you know I love you. This is the last thing you asked me to do, so…” 

Unable to finish his sentence, he plunged Gabriel’s sword into Michael’s chest as hard as he could before he lost his nerve. Michael looked shocked, as if he had honestly believed that Sam wouldn’t do it. And maybe that was true. Either way, Michael fell to the ground and light seeped out from the gaping wound around the blade. 

 

Sam knelt on the floor next to the body, and when he looked into those eyes, he knew it was Dean looking back at him. “Good job, Sammy”, he whispered, then his eyes closed again. Sam couldn’t help himself, sobbing and repeating his brother’s name over and over again. 

 

Gabriel finally approached him. “You knew this, Sam. You knew this was going to cost you your brother, and you did it anyway. Because it was the right thing, even though it was farthest from the easy thing. Anyway, I can’t stand these kinds of emotional scenes. Tears like that are unbecoming on a man your size.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and his blade appeared in his hand, then returned to wherever the hell those things went when they weren’t being used. 

 

At the same time, Dean opened his eyes. Sam and Castiel held their breath, thinking their plan had backfired and Michael was going to end all of them right now. But then his mouth opened, and he said, “Fuck, that was a nightmare”, rolling his head to the either side so he could look at Sam, Castiel and Gabriel. “Thanks for the save, though. Wanna give me a hand up?”

 

Castiel looked shell-shocked, Gabriel had a satisfied grin on his lips, and Sam reached down to pull his brother into a bone-crushing embrace. “Dean. _Dean_ , Jesus, I thought – I’m so sorry, I’m – wait, hey, what the fuck? Why the hell did you do this? I’m so fucking pissed at you, God, I’m so pissed off, Dean”, he continued, never letting go of his brother. 

 

Dean pulled back and wiped away a few of his own tears. “I know, Sammy. I’m sorry too. That’s for you too, Cas. I know this isn’t what any of us wanted, I’m so sick about what he did once he had me. But I had to. I had to do something, I couldn’t let Sam…fuck, I don’t know”, he trailed off. 

 

“Plenty of time to sort out all the details later, boys”, Gabriel interrupted. “Dean, you’re welcome, Castiel, you’re welcome, Sam, you’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”, He smiled and disappeared with a snap. 

 

Without waiting another second, Castiel got them out of there; landing back at their little place in Mexico, because it was the first thing he thought of. “I apologize, but there was no way to know whether or not we were still safe there. I suspect Michael’s angels will retreat to Heaven now that he’s been defeated, but I couldn’t be sure.”

 

“No, it’s fine Cas, and thanks, I really mean it, you stuck with Sam through all this, got Gabriel to help you, I don’t know how you guys managed all of it but I never thought I’d still be alive to see the rest of this. And I have you to thank for that, you and Sam and, I hate to say it, but Gabriel too.” He finished talking and moved in to grab Cas into a hug that Cas actually managed to return after a moment or two. “I guess we’ve got to figure out where to go from here, but I’d really like to hear it from the two of you, everything that happened from your own perspective. It was hard for me to tell what was happening most of the time. I knew when he killed Lucifer, though, I could feel it, and it was the strangest thing, like Michael was _sad_ about it. Seems like the way he saw it, he was just doing what he thought he was supposed to, but somehow he still loved Lucifer and didn’t really want to kill him.”

 

Castiel replied, “You are correct, I’m sure. No matter how much animosity builds up between them, in the end they’re still brothers and that’s not a connection that’s easily broken. Not that I have to tell that to the Winchesters”, he added with a small smile. “It will take some time to relay all of the events we know about since you…well, while you’ve been gone. But I suspect both of you will want to see Bobby first, make sure he’s all right?”

 

“Awww, going sweet on us, Cas,? You’re worried about him too, aren’t you?” Dean teased. “Yeah I wanna see him, but take me to my baby first, will you? You better not have left her on the side of the road somewhere, I swear-”

 

“Your _car_ is fine, Dean. Sam would never do that, and you know it.”

 

All of a sudden, Dean gave Sam and Castiel a narrow-eyed, suspicious look. They realized he was standing in front of the bedroom, and clearly he’d noticed the condom wrappers on the floor. “Something you two wanna tell me?”, he asked, clearly concentrating his ire on Castiel while Sam rolled his eyes and responded. 

 

“Look, there are a thousand things we want to tell you, and the fact that we’re sleeping together really shouldn’t be that huge a deal considering everything else that’s happened. Let’s just get your car and get back to Bobby’s, all right?” Dean grumbled but agreed, and Castiel took Sam’s hand in his, looking up at him for just a moment before reaching out toward Dean so they could take their Angel Air trip to Sioux Falls.

 

It was all Sam could do not to laugh out loud. As it was, his smile lit up his whole face and he felt as complete as he’d ever been. He had his brother back, he had Cas, whatever potential there was in that situation, and they could at least try to keep going, help people, live some kind of life. But they’d be together, and that was the only thing that really mattered.


End file.
